Who Are You, If Not Extraordinary?
by Katherine75
Summary: Season 4 Spoiler Alert: John knows. The truth surrounds them both. They embrace it, return to the cottage together, but how will they move forward from here?


John glanced at her tightly fisted hands, tucked neatly under her chin; he felt breathless and battered by guilt. How do you explain the unexplainable? She is his wife, how had he been foolish enough not to realize something vicious had happened to her? She needs her life absolved of this smoldering wound. The very tissue of his heart feels a grievous blow as he ponders that terrorizing night. Again. For the hundredth time that day. For her. Narrowly tasting the vile trauma of it all, it sickens him. Some things can never be explained, or forgiven.

Around half past midnight they arrived back at the cottage together; he quickly built a fire and wrapped her safely in his embrace on the settee. Anna willingly collapsed against him, with blonde strands of hair cascading his arm securely around her. She was beyond exhausted; she ached deeply within her marrow.

His heart pulsing with anguish, John tries focusing on her loveliness instead. He has missed her. The essence of her bath soap mingling with the light powder she wears creates an anesthetic bouquet for his senses. He continues to miss her even though she is here. Her soft eyelashes fluttering gently as she dreams, hushed in his tender hold - a sedative for his convulsive grief.

He longed for her so desperately while she hid away at the abbey, instilling walls around herself to keep him away and in the dark about what had really transpired that fait driven night. Tossing around alone in their hollow bed, wondering night after forsaken night what he had done to cause her such estrangement; John agonized over his failings as her husband. He had, after all, yelled at her in front of the other staff, even accusing her of foolishness. She had defended Green's enjoyable nature in front of him, the sting of her voice still biting into his pride. His thoughts hover about her harsh words in the days following the attack, her voice cutting through him like a rough blade tearing shards of leather. The fire finally warming the parlor, he feels rolling beads of sweat slide down his neck and coils at the suspicion it might have been Green who assaulted her. John can't escape this gut wrenching idea. He'd like to tear shards of flesh from Green.

He would turn a corner and there she would be, halting then walking in the opposite direction from him, or absentmindedly look up during a meal to find him watching her inquisitive, then drop her eyes instantly, shutting him out. _He mustn't see, _she would think. He knew her. He did see through her. Only he could never imagine what she had buried beneath her protective shroud.

Placing delicate kisses on the back of her head, John savors the moments watching her sleep, she seems peaceful but suspects her dreams are not. Each kiss fuels a swelling lump in his throat. Emotions threaten to erupt like bitter ash from his very core, squashing his strength, accelerating his heartbreak, delivering a bevy of mourning. John chokes on his tears. Anna. His Anna. She was still _his _wasn't she? Or had he lost her forever to the damning torture of that night? His memory replays the truth of her sufferings in the way Mrs. Hughes had revealed them. John cannot stop the carousel of thoughts that plague his mind. Like a lesion forming a scar, he will never forgive himself for not being there to protect her.

With Anna suddenly stirring in his arms, John softly delivers a kiss to her temple, gently waking her. She grins slightly, knowing where she is, and whose arms surround her. Her smile grows as he strokes her cheek tenderly with the tip of his thumb, encouraging her to smile wider. "Hello love," she whispers, stretching, almost seeming carefree for a moment.

"Yes. Hello love indeed." John kisses her cheek softly responding. "Were you dreaming?"

Anna smiled, "I thought at first, but then remembered I _really_ am home, and with you."

Her sincerity igniting a brief but comforting smile to John's face, "Indeed you are, right where you belong I must remind you."

"John?" Anna hesitates for a moment, stilling her body.

"What is it?"

"I'm sorry I lied to you."

He pauses, realizing how vital it had been to her to protect him, more than receive the essential care and support after her assault. How is it she could be so strong willed for his sake? Clasping and kissing her hand softly, John responds quickly, "I know you didn't want to lie. I'm sorry you thought it better to do so."

"That's not all I'm sorry for..."

"Anna." John interrupts somewhat sternly, "there is nothing you should apologize for. Nothing."

"But I hurt you, and forced you into confusing grief because you _didn't_ know."

"The grief I feel is because I failed to protect you. I can never forgive myself for that."

She didn't have the energy to respond. Part of her felt like she brought the whole thing on, she had, after all, flirted with Green. How could John blame himself? It was her failure, not his. "John, I want to sleep...I think I can sleep for a very long time if you hold me. I feel safer now that you are holding me again."

"Then I will hold you all night. Would you like to stay here with the fire or go to bed?"

"Do you mind terribly if we stay here? Its warm and I imagine the bed will be so very cold."

"Of course I don't mind, now go to sleep… and dream of me."

"The better man?" She asked with a small smile, recalling a time long ago.

"Only because you make me so." He said with his deepest sincerity.

"Then what does that make me? Now that I am…less than who I was…"

"Who are you, if not extraordinary?" He covers her forehead softly with his hand, brushing away strands of hair then places a lingering kiss. She pulls his hand down to her lips sweeping his knuckles over them slowly and resting his hand on her hip. Anna quickly drifts back to sleep, relaxing in John's loving warmth.

If Anna needs his arms around her to find solace, John will happily suffer sitting there until morning. By no means will he steal any comfort away from her, no matter how small. His only strength that day comes from having her with him under the same roof and in his arms once again. The shock of the truth beginning to dwindle him down; John grows more concerned about Anna as he suspects she has never seen Dr. Clarkson all this time. He will try to convince her of it in the morning. She shivers slightly, and John pulls a quilt higher over her shoulder. She nestles closer to him with her head against his chest. Steady winds rattle the trees outside, but John is sure to draw Anna closer into their mutual solidarity.

As night passes, he thinks about the coming summer and considers packing up and leaving Downton, securing Anna far away from here. They might do better to finally seek out that little hotel to own and work together, where he will always protect her and manage their lives differently. They could control their time and he would enjoy the quiet: no one ringing for them or keeping them up late, nor having to worry about the constant interruptions from colleagues while they share meals. No one to remind them of all the turmoil from their past.

But he knows. Inevitably, the memories would still come. There would be no liberation, no sidestepping what has happened. The only way around this is to go through it. Together. After all he's seen, after experiencing the unremarkable record of humanity, he still doesn't have a viable solution, but he does have Anna, and she has him.

John reaches for a book on a side table, a small collection of writings by G.K. Chesterton. His thoughts in need of restoration, he opens to a page he marked a few days ago and rereads the words: "_He has not been broken in two by time; he is not two men, but one, and he has saved not only his soul but his life."_

Forgiveness is a complicated thing and John doesn't know how to forgive this. But he knows that in clearing out his own past, he opened up his life to fill it with Anna. She is the one. She is the very one who saved his bitter soul, and because of this, he will surely save her life.


End file.
